


You Promised!

by Quinzelle



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Teasing, To me anyway, how does one tag?, it's just cute af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:13:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinzelle/pseuds/Quinzelle
Summary: After a nightmare of Simon's, Baz promises something that he thought he would never break. Turns out, the Universe really loves proving Baz wrong.- Inspired by a headcanon on Tumblr -





	You Promised!

**Author's Note:**

> Before you start, couple of things;  
> First - this is my first fanfiction, pretty much ever. This is all very new to me and I still don't feel like I've completely captured their characters but, I really loved the idea of this. I've had a draft of it for days now and I've finally gotten around to editing it. Any advice is appreciated!
> 
> Second - this was inspired by a tumblr post (that I found on Pinterest). I was going to link it but turns out, I can't find it anymore. Credit to whoever created it (if anyone knows the post, I'll link it here). I'll explain the post in the notes at the end, so as not to spoil the fun!

For as well as I know Simon Snow, even I cannot say how he’ll react to this. The dramatic side of me has flashbacks to him punching me in the nose back at Watford. Bloody bastard broke my nose. I can definitely do without a repeat of that. 

The weak side of me can picture him, instead, pouting. His chubby lower lip stuck out and those boring, perfectly blue eyes frowning. Either way, I know I am going to be made to feel guilty and guilty is not an emotion that I enjoy. Especially for something that wasn’t even my fault. It’s not something worth getting upset at me for, but I already know he will. Snow doesn’t exactly listen to reason. 

I continue shuffling down the street towards the apartment block, pulling my black hood further down my head as I go. Currently the middle of winter, I don’t look quite so out of place yet. Once indoors, that’ll be a different story. 

Crowley, I should’ve just gone back to my apartment but it’s just delaying the inevitable. Besides, that would still result in a sulking Snow and I’d rather not have a repeat of him stalking around wearing his cross and every other article of silver he could find.  
He wouldn’t take any of it off for 3 days. Insufferable prick. 

Reaching the entrance to the block, I look up and sigh. Great Crowley, I didn’t think there would ever be a day when I was dreading seeing Simon Snow… well, not since we started dating, anyway. I enter and start taking the stairs, dragging my feet compared to my usual sprint. Normally I practically levitate up the things, the whole corridor a blur. Now, I’m seeing things I never knew before. Like, how this building well and truly is barely standing. Cracks everywhere and each step creaks under my feet. 

Just as I’m beginning to note what a horrific colour the carpet is, I hear someone bounding behind me, shouting my name.  
“Baz?” Bunce asks, hesitation in her voice as she comes up next to me.  
“Bunce.” I regard her, trying to keep my head turned without looking suspicious.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her trying to turn her head to look me in the eye. From the look on her face, I already know she’s not buying anything.  
“Are you ill? Why are you so slow?” She asks, her trademark bluntness never leaving, “Have you and Simon argued?”

I’m not thinking, my mind still focused on Simon, as my mouth mumbles, “Not yet.”  
I can only hope she hasn’t heard as I silently kick myself and pray.  
“Not yet?” She repeats. Fuck you, Universe. You can’t have a day off, can you?

Rather than answer, I continue walking. More to buy myself some time though there’s still a small, stupid, side of me praying that it means she’ll drop the subject.  
Of course, I get neither of those things. I’m barely off the step we’d been standing on when I feel a slight force pulling me back by the head as she rips of my hood. My blood runs cold and I can’t even bring myself to snap or to sneer. Who am I without my sneer? 

I hear a gasp as I slowly turn to see her eyes wide, hands clasping around her mouth.  
"Baz! What did you do?!" She exclaims incredulously. Her eyes are wide with shock but, as she lowers her hands, I see her mouth quirked up in amusement.  
“Nothing that concerns you, Bunce.” I snap, a pathetically weak comeback but I can’t even bother to dwell. I self-consciously whip my hood back up and continue stalking up the stairs to my inevitable demise. 

Bunce follows me, hot on my heels. I can see her practically bursting with questions. “Maybe not yet, but it sure is about to when Simon sees.” I turn to sneer and see her grinning. She’s fucking enjoying this - and everyone says I’m the cruel one. She continues, undeterred, “I’d ask if this was your decision but seeing as you’d be anywhere but here, I’m gonna say no -”  
“Of course I’d prefer to be anywhere but here, why would I want to spend time with you, Bunce?” I snap. It’s somewhat a lie, really. After having to spend so much time with her because of Snow, I’ve actually gotten used to her - and somewhat reluctantly, I have actually come to enjoy her company. Not that I’d ever tell her that. Right in this moment though? I’m currently considering a reenactment of Snow’s trip down the stairs, this time sidekick in his steed. 

“Now, Now, Basilton, No need to get snippy.” She quips, emphasising her shoddy pun, “So, what happened?” When I don’t reply, she needles me once again. “Come on, Baz, I’ll only find out when you tell Simon.” 

“Exactly, so there’s no need for you to force me to say it twice.” I sigh, relishing in the fact that she’s reminded me that I need to consider how I’m even going to attempt to tell Simon. We reach the floor of their flat and by now, the dread has set up a nice tent and firepit in my stomach to camp out in. 

“Have you tried magick on it?” She enquiries. I settle for a glare, refusing to even dignify that question with a proper response. Of course I fucking tried. At least what I could without my entire body becoming encased in hair. There’s an abundance of hair spells but they’re finicking little shits, with spells such as “Full Head Of Hair” only working if you’re completely bald. I could’ve tried “Hair Of The Dog That Bit You” as a punishment for the numpty that got me into this situation but his hair was covered in more grease than an oil slick. 

"It's a perfectly reasonable question, Basil!" She replies exasperatedly.  
“Yes, if the question was ‘Do I want to look like Cousin Itt from the Addams Family?’ which is a resounding, no, Bunce, I do not.” Ah, sarcasm. Never fails to comfort me.  
“It’s not like you don’t look like the rest of them.” She mutters, rolling her eyes slightly. I turn to her, as we have now reached the front door and have nowhere else to go. “There’s a slight difference between looking like Gomez and Cousin Itt.” I jab back.  
Bunce begins reaching for the door knob, temptingly, “Brave of you to assume you’re Gomez.” She smirks.

Before I get to respond, the door bursts open just before Bunce’s hand reaches the door knob. If only she’d been whisked away with the door. Now that would’ve brought some warmth to my cold, dead heart. Instead, the usual object of my affections is stood in the doorway, grinning. Poor bastard, that sunshine grin will be wiped away soon enough. 

Simon pauses, tipping his head in his usual adorably confused fashion, grin only dimming slightly. He shakes his head lightly, brushing away the current vibe of the corridor, instead grabbing for us, "Why are you two standing in the corridor?" He asks as he drags us inside, bounding like a golden retriever. He’s clearly in a good mood. Why, Merlin, Why? I'm a terrible terrible person, doomed to damnation.

No. That fucking kid at the café is, chewing his ridiculous gum. I lower my bag to the ground, keeping my hand on my hood to make sure it never slips. Usually, I’d be taking my shoes off by now but I feel like it’s smarter to leave them on. There’s a chance I’m not staying. I go to sit on the sofa, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible. I shall ride this innocence until proven guilty. However, it seems I don’t have long as Simon moves in front of me, his shoulder squaring up to my left. He’s wearing his trademark, “You’re Plotting” look. Even after all this time, I still get to see it and it still makes my knees buckle all the same. It also mildly pisses me off still. 

"Aren't you gonna take that off?" He asks, slightly pouting, nodding towards my hood. My heart can’t help but melt at the sight of him preparing to go into a full sulk. I’m tempted to whip it off now, taking the rest of my outfit with me. Jammy (gorgeous) bastard. But sadly, I have two bloodlines of stubborness deeply ingrained within me so instead, I try to infuse calmness into my voice - and fail rather miserably, "I think I'll leave it for today, Snow. I'm cold.”  
I look for Bunce, in hopes of her helping me. She just flashes a grin, as she munches on Digestive biscuits and awaits the chaos. 

“Bullshit,” Simon exclaims, as he tries to stop me from side stepping him, “You said, and I quote, ‘Who needs bloody radiators when holding you is like sitting in a furnace?’.” Shit. I really need to watch what I say when we’re cuddling. Of all the times he picks to remember something I’ve said. Panic sets in me as I can’t think of anything to say. I mean, his argument is compelling, for once in his life (that’s because they’re my words he’s using). 

When I don’t reply, he just sighs and fills the silence himself, "At least take the hood off, Baz." He tries to lift it down like Bunce did but I move backwards. He keeps trying but each time, I go back. When I hit the door with a thud, I realise I’ve objected one too many times. His face starts to fall as he begins to think I don’t want him to touch me. I mean, I don’t - but not for the reasons he’s probably assuming. Bollocks. I shouldn't have come. But then I haven't seen him all day and great Crowley, I'm too weak to not see him for a day and I can't avoid him until it grows back. 

His hand reaches up slightly once more and I close my eyes as I resign myself to the fact that I can’t run anymore. Might as well get it over with.  
Except, I can’t. Because nothing happens.

I open them again to see his hand stroking his arm instead, as he shuffles backwards.  
"Snow?" I ask, suddenly more afraid that he's retreating. He’s not just assuming those reasons now. He’s believing them.  
"I-I-uh," He stutters, my heart sinking further. It's not his fault, "I'm sorry if I ah, made you uncomfortable - or something." He won't look me in the eye, just focuses on his arm stroking his jumper. 

It’s been almost two years since everything. Since losing his magick and the incident with The Mage. He's still insecure about everything. About himself. He had his wings and tail removed by Dr. Wellbelove a while ago.  
He’s definitely sunnier since then. Looking more like Simon, again. But every now and then, I get a glimpse of something slightly less sunny. It never lasts long and if I ask, he just brushes it off. Sometimes he tells me but never in depth, after all, he was never good with words. Even still, I could put money on what his worries are. At least, one in particular.

I know he worries that I'll leave him for a Mage, one day. That I’ll see him the way he sees himself, Normal. It’s absolute shite and even he knows it's irrational. But, he still can’t help it. The same way I can’t help fearing that he’ll realise he can do so much better than me. So, so much.  
I can’t do much to subside my own fears, but I can do something to make sure I don’t fuel his.

I push myself off the door and gingerly reach for his fingers. He doesn’t push me away. I force myself to look him in the eyes. I can’t afford to hesitate. “You didn’t.” I manage, self-consciousness rising up in me despite everything. His eyes lift a little, not much, unsure whether to believe me or not.  
I sigh. Just like a plaster. Just rip it off. I squeeze his hands as I let go and reach for the hood, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Snow. You never do.” I feel my eyes warm on my last sentiment. He really never does. Even when he hasn’t listened to me, or is adorned in every silver article, sparkling enough to rival the Crown Jewels.

I lower the hood to reveal what I'm hiding. He jumps back a bit, in what I hope is shock and not horror. I watch as his face goes through about five different emotions at once, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, as he tries to find something to say.  
"Wh- wh - why?" He eventually whines, breathlessly. 

Before I get chance to explain, his emotions begin to flood out. He may not have his magic but by Crowley, he still knows how to make himself known, "You - You promised!" He cries. Quite literally. “You promised you’d never cut it!”

I cringe inwardly, remembering the promise. Pitches are many things but we don’t break promises - and this is one I was never intending to break. One night whilst we were in bed, he shot up crying. I jumped, my arms were wrapped around him so I, of course, got dragged up with him. I simultaneously started preparing to calm him, as per when one of us has a nightmare, as well as trying to debate if vampires can have heart attacks. I barely got a word out as he grabbed my shirt and made me promise to never, ever cut my hair. He then had to repeat it several times as my sleep ridden mind tried to catch up. 

I love him but great Merlin he can be an idiot at times.  
Of all the things I've promised, I was quite certain this was one I could keep easily. Ha. Me putting my misplaced trust in the fucking Universe. Snow is now slumped on the arm of the sofa, his head on Bunce's shoulder as she tries to comfort him, alternating between comforting Simon (albeit exasperatedly) and smirking at me. She’s still enjoying this.

He keeps his head down, refusing to look at me. If anyone walked in now, they’d think he’d just heard I’d died not cut my hair.  
"Snow." He doesn't look up. "Snow." I crouch down to where he's looking but he just looks away. "Simon!"  
He looks up at me, tears building in his eyes, head remaining on Penny's shoulder as he sniffles. I sigh, my hand going through my hair before pulling back in shock. It's not there. Well, compared to before.

"It wasn't my decision." I start, "Some runt got chewing gum in the middle of my hair down the back. I had no choice."  
He sniffs again, eyes darting around unable to focus on me but wanting to, "You could've just cut the clump."  
"Then I would've looked like an even bigger numpty!" I try to feign annoyance but I just can't do it, a mild grin trying to form. He just looks so blimming cute.  
"Not from the front!" He protests, slightly strangled, clearly not believing that statement himself.

Snow starts to lift his head from Bunce’s shoulder, releasing her. He pauses, like he wants to say something but then decides against it. Instead, he brings his hand towards my hair. Rather than sitting around my shoulders, it's now buzzed around the sides. It's not how I'd have chosen but it was either this or something resembling a bowl cut. This seemed like the safer option. The top is still rather long and floppy. Long enough that soon, I’ll be able to slick it back again for events. Simon hates it but there’s some occasions where he has no say. I know my new haircut won't be a problem with my family. They've been protesting for years for me to cut it. That was all the more reason to agree to Snow's promise.

Snow runs his hand through my hair, muttering slightly under his breath,  
“It’s still soft…”  
“There’s not much to grab anymore, though.” He pouts at this one, continuing to softly maim my hair. He then stands up to inspect it as I stay crouched on the floor, my ankles gradually giving way but unwilling to let me fall. I see Bunce inspecting the situation and taking her leave. "I know where this is going," is all she mutters.

He stops circling me and lifts me back into a standing position before wrapping his arms around me, burying his face into my chest. I fall back gently against the armrest of the sofa.  
"Is it that bad?" I whisper into his perfectly intact bird's nest of curls, as I bring my hand down to stroke them. Lucky bastard. 

He's silent for a while, just clinging on like a koala. At least he's not angry, I muse.  
"Not as bad." He says finally, voice muffled by my hoodie.  
"So you're not angry?" Why? Why do I keep poking?

"Not with you. That kid is another story though." I look down to see him glaring at the thought and I can't help but chuckle.  
"Oh don't worry about that. I took care of the kid."  
He looks up in horror, shockingly less than when he saw my hair. Confusion hits for a second before realisation.

"Crowley, I didn't bloody kill him, Snow!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes.  
"Seriously maim?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.  
"No, though I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind. I had to settle for seriously humiliated, instead." I smirk, thinking back to seeing the kid fluster as I legged him up as he walked past, mildly hot coffee sailing in the air before exploding all over him. Not my best work but I had other thoughts on my mind. Like how to get his disgusting spit wad out of my fucking hair. Little shit had managed to spread it across my bun, resulting in so much of it having to come off.

Snow seems content with this - and with not knowing. He lifts his head a little further back to look at me properly.  
"You know," He juts his chin, staring me down (up). Like the dragon, all that time ago. "It's kinda hot when you get past the initial shock."  
If I'd have fed, I'd be bright red now I'm sure. I'm definitely a shade of pink at least. I fluster for a moment before regaining myself,  
"Well of course it is, Snow. It's me, afterall." I grin back. He rolls his eyes but they still sparkle as his sunshine grin returns, "Cocky bastard."  
I know what Bunce meant now.

**Author's Note:**

> The post was basically the part about Simon waking up after having a nightmare that Baz cut his hair and Baz telling him he never would but Simon insisting on him promising. Vehemently.  
> At least, how I remember it.  
> I was inspired by the headcanon because I loved the idea of it but my evil side couldn't help but wonder, "What if he did? What if he had to?". Then I took that thought and ran with it!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and it wasn't too rambly. I really love Baz's internal monologue so I really wanted to play around with it, though I don't think I captured it completely. I also tried to format this the best way I could. Normally I write in paragraphs but AO3 doesn't always seem to appreciate them. Again, any tips are appreciated.  
> All in all, I had fun and I hope you did too!


End file.
